Conditioning (1/2)

It’s high time for another update from sad Oscar! Things are getting more and more dire the longer he waits for a rescue.

( Read from the beginning ) 


When Oscar could walk again without too much pain to his back, the human that tended to his bandages didn’t visit as often. He had others to attend to, so he said. Oscar couldn’t help but wonder how many others like him waited in cages, nursing their own burns. How many had come before him and left already?

The smooth-talking human that sent him to be branded on his first day in the new city would come by instead. He wandered the room, peering into cages and talking to the prisoners within.

When the man came to Oscar’s cage one day, Oscar lingered in the farthest corner he could. He couldn’t press his back against the metal without sending a jolt of pain over his healing burn, but he did his best to keep the distance between them.

The human had a glint in his eye that Oscar didn’t like. “Ah. So skittish. It’s time you got over that, little one. Most customers don’t want something too frightened, not from us.”

The man’s impatient face blocked everything else out. Oscar stared silently out at him and tried not to let his tears escape.

He didn’t know how not to be frightened in such a terrifying place.

The human rolled his eyes. “You’re one of Noriko’s dolls, I’d have thought you’d be more socialized.”

The mention of the first human to keep him trapped, to treat him like an object, sent a shudder down Oscar’s spine. He closed his eyes and ducked his head. The man was right. He should be used to humans staring in at him by now, and a part of him was. The rest wouldn’t let go of that fear.

The human scoffed. Oscar wasn’t looking, so he didn’t notice the man moving until he heard the metallic clang of his cage front opening. He looked up in time for that hand to dive in after him.

He tried to push himself back, only to flinch forward when the action hurt his burn. The front of his shirt provided the human a handhold on him, just like the first time he’d ever met him. He dragged Oscar out of his cage in that pinch grip, no matter how his tiny shoes pushed against the floor.

Oscar found himself dangling over the floor in front of the man’s dispassionate eyes. “Christ,” the salesman muttered. “Here I thought you’d be more ready to go.” Oscar squeezed his eyes shut and tried to curl himself into a ball. Every movement stretched and strained his back, and the skin might as well be on fire again. His cheeks glistened with tears.

The human wasn’t moved, but he did let Oscar drop with a pained yelp to his other palm. “Alright, conditioning for you, then,” he spat, though it felt more like he was talking to the air than to Oscar. His fingers curled closed over his palm until the much smaller man was immobile in his fist.

“No one bothers to tell me these things,” the human complained to himself. “Could’ve been working on this one this whole time and had him ready for turnover. Louts.”

Oscar squirmed in the human’s grasp, but not for escape. The thick skin folded around him, ensuring he’d never be able to get out. Instead, he tried to find an angle that didn’t strain his back. The curve of the human’s palm pinched at him and he had tears in his eyes from the pain.

Footsteps jarred him, but Oscar didn’t care about where he would go. He’d been taken to other rooms before, never knowing the direction. They always made sure he wouldn’t be able to find his way around, if he ever found himself free of a cage.

Another metal door opened, and Oscar paused in sheer surprise. The human spoke to someone inside another cage. “Alright, you get some conditioning for today, too. Come here, titch.”

Oscar’s heart pattered. He was going to see someone else his size. It would be the first time in months.

Even though they were both captives of humans that wanted to sell them away, it was something.

Oscar waited with a confusing mix of emotions twisting up in his chest. One part of him was relieved, another part eager. Another part was sad to think of finally seeing someone else sharing his fate. The last part of him, a tiny voice in the back of his head, was afraid of what he’d see.

He knew they had arrived when the hand around him swung forward and abruptly opened. Oscar slid down the tilted palm and landed on a table. An overhead light filled the cramped room with its yellowish hue, but Oscar didn’t pay any attention to the walls or other furniture. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees in time to see the other captive dumped on the table only a few inches away.

The human didn’t sit right away. As he turned towards a cabinet in one corner, the other small person picked himself up and looked over at Oscar, mirroring his surprise to see him.

The guy was younger than Oscar, but he couldn’t be sure by much. He was tall. Easily almost four inches even, if not more. He rushed over to help Oscar to his feet.

He must have been burned, too. Underneath the bedraggled hem of his hooded jacket, Oscar saw the pristine white of bandages like his own. This person didn’t have doll clothes like Oscar did yet.

“Hey, buddy,” the kid greeted in a soft voice. “You okay?” He got a stunned nod from Oscar and smiled with relief. “That’s good. Man, it’s been forever since they’ve let me see anyone else…”

Oscar, his head tilted back, remembered to answer. “Y-yeah. Me too.”

The stranger’s eyebrows went up. He noticed, just as Oscar had, that they both shared an accent, very unlike the humans they’d met so far. “Damn. Sounds like you came a long way just like me,” the stranger whispered. “What’s your name?”

Oscar couldn’t help but think back to the last time someone had asked for his name. Mina, the human that sent him on a plane so far away from home, and she hadn’t even written down the right name. “I’m Oscar,” he replied, whispering just like his fellow prisoner.

The stranger nodded. “Nice to meet you, Oscar. I’m–”

Nightmares

It’s been a while since we’ve seen anything new from Oz. This is a small update, but even a little step is one step closer to the end. That’s a good thing, right?

(x)


“Wake up, little one,” Noriko coos. Her voice is soft and gentle even as she nudges Oscar’s side. He opens his eyes and sits up to stare out at her. The glass front wall of his doll room is gone. Only her big smile remains to wall him in.

“Good morning, sweet baby,” she greets him. She can barely contain her squeak of delight as Oscar rubs sleepily at his eyes.

When he stands, he’s right in front of her, looking up. She always has food for him in the morning, and it’s usually fresh fruit. He likes the food, even if he doesn’t like being her doll.

He has to remind himself. He doesn’t like being her doll.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. He nods. It makes her smile again.

A hand looms in his vision and Oscar shudders, but has nowhere to run and hide. She pats his messy hair down with one fingertip in a gentle, caring motion. It’s not the worst. Oscar knows to let her, and the motion will be over with sooner.

Her fingertip trails back and Oscar’s heart skips a beat. As it approaches his shoulders, he opens his mouth to ask her not to touch his back. She can’t or he’ll-

A wave of pain twinged down Oscar’s back as he woke with a start. A muffled squeak escaped his throat and he slowly came out of the weird dream. His surroundings were darker, not as colorful. He lay on his front, because lying on his back was still agonizing.

After nearly two weeks, his burns hadn’t healed yet. The human that gave them to him came once a day to check on him and sometimes applied new bandages. Other than that, Oscar was kept alone in his own small cage.

Something about already being conditioned. They didn’t want him to talk to others of his own kind, lest they influence him. Oscar never was sure what that could mean. They’d still all be trapped.

He heaved a sigh and winced. Even the simple movement of his torso from breathing agitated his sensitive skin. He couldn’t tell if he was getting used to the pain or if it was lessening by the day.

Whatever the answer, Oscar had woken thirsty. He glanced across his cage where a plastic dish of water waited. Several inches separated him from it.

He shifted, clenching his jaw as he did. With the same care he’d grown used to, he scooted himself off the folded cloth that was his bed. Cold metal touched his bare front, but he didn’t mind. Crawling like this was the best way to keep from moving too much and hurting his back. It was almost soothing to feel something other than the sharp sensation over his back.

Oscar didn’t pay much mind to the world beyond his cage. Only the front was uncovered, and it didn’t offer a very interesting view, only a nightmare room with dingy lighting and more cages on shelves.

It was kind of like his old doll room in a way, except not as comfortable.

No cage is comfortable, he reminded himself. Not even Noriko could dress up a cage enough to be anything but a trap.

Oscar reached the water and propped himself up next to it the best he could so he could scoop some out. It soothed his throat, despite being the same temperature as the room. That, at least, was nothing new.

There were footsteps somewhere in the hall. A human approached. Oscar closed his eyes and sighed. They might leave him be. They might. If not, he was ready. His nightmares never got better, but he at least knew what to expect.

December 17th excerpt:

John couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of detail he was able to see through the small lens, if slightly distorted. The individual spikes of Dean’s hair which swayed as though in time with a breeze; it didn’t take John long to realize that the breeze was his breath, and he made a conscious effort to lessen the gust. Freckles across Dean’s cheeks and stubble on his chin, the tiniest things that John wouldn’t be able to make out ordinarily. Bloodstains on his black shirt, and… John squinted and looked closer, a little thrown by the sight of a necklace resting against Dean’s chest. Even with the magnifier, all he could really make out was an outline of a leather cord and a metallic gleam from a pendant.

“What is that? ” Sherlock piped up, leaning in close again. 

Floorboards (2/2)

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( For the first parts of this AU, follow these links to It Just Takes One and A New Doll )


“He got in the floor,” Noriko explained, her disappointed voice muffled by the ceiling of wood over Oscar’s head. Some boards creaked under the humans’ weight.

“Lemme guess,” her boyfriend said, amusement in his tone. “Left him up on the table? You know they’re good climbers, Nori.”

There was a sound of a playful slap on a shoulder. “Just get him out, please?”

Oscar limped faster. The floor overhead creaked and groaned as the huge human man crossed the room. If he were to glance behind, he was sure he’d see the light from the knot in the wood winking out under a massive shadow.

Oscar was over halfway across the room from there. They’d never find him once he got into the walls on the other side. He was so close.

Or so he thought.

Up ahead was a sight that made the blood rush out of Oscar’s face. Cold fear washed over him.

Wedged in between the support boards was another block of wood, perpendicular to the rest. It blocked passage further in the room, and Oscar could tell from looking at it that it’d be too heavy to push even if he didn’t have an injured ankle.

There was a smiley face scratched into it with faded ink.

A trap. The floor was a trap.

Oscar stood frozen, favoring one leg. The humans moved around above him. They were ready for him to attempt an escape. Noriko never once worried about losing track of him. Humans were more powerful and that inked smiley face bore into him while heavy footsteps approached overhead. Tears stung in his eyes.

A wrenching sound tore through the air and light burst down on him. Oscar looked up in shock and tried to throw himself backwards, out of the light, as Noriko’s boyfriend pulled a floorboard right out of its base.

Oscar’s ankle protested, and he fell. Seconds later, a hand snatched in at him, and he was pinned. The dust dug into his cheek from the pressure on his back.

Then, the powerful fingers dragged him backwards. Oscar swept through the dust until fingertips the size of his head pinched the back of his shirt. With no further warning, they yanked him upwards.

Oscar tried to curl into himself as much as he could as he soared up out of the floor in a precarious grip. The room whirled around him and the floor waited below as the man held him up.

It didn’t take long for Noriko to snatch him in a fist and wrench him away. As her hand closed around him, Oscar finally yelped in pain.

“Oh, no, baby,” Noriko cooed, whisking Oscar up towards her face. She opened her fist to cradle Oscar in both hands, and all he could see through the jostling pain was her eyes and the straight black curtain of her hair.

“Did Thomas hurt you, little sweetie?” she prompted. Oscar shuddered and tried to curl into a ball on her palm. A single finger nudged at him and forced him to uncurl again. “Tell me where you’re hurt.” There was no room for defiance in her tone.

Oscar sniffled and realized there were tears spilling from his eyes and tracking through the dust on his face. He shook all over, fear thrumming in every nerve. He really was just a little pet doll to these people. They knew he’d go for an escape and had a trap for him in there. It was all so overwhelming and he sobbed quietly.

Noriko expected an answer, so he lifted a shaky hand to brush at his eyes. His tears were grainy with dust, and his cheek stung from dragging along the ground. He met her dramatically concerned gaze and then pointed to his sprained ankle without a word.

She gasped and held him even closer so she could observe the swelling. If he wanted, Oscar could reach up and touch her face from so close. Instead, he lay down in her hands and covered his face while more sobs shook his little shoulders.

“Ohhhh my gosh,” Noriko whispered, her voice almost breaking. “Thomas, you hurt him!”

Thomas grunted noncommittally. The floorboard clattered back into place. “He coulda got that any time after he scampered off. Lease now he won’t run off so easy.”

“Oh, you’re so awful,” Noriko scolded. Oscar hiccupped. Her voice was so loud and close.

A fingertip nudged at his side and rolled him over again. Noriko took advantage of Oscar’s surprised flail to unfold his fearful curl and pin him to her palm with a thumb. She walked out of the room, looking him over with pity. Oscar held back a whimper of pain and defeat while more quiet tears came.

“Oh, sweet pea,” Noriko said quietly. “Don’t worry. Mama’s gonna get you all cleaned up and then we can put some ice on it. Gotta help you heal up right for when it’s time to meet Mina.”

Oscar shivered as Noriko reached the sink in her cluttered kitchen. That name had come up again. Mina. Oscar didn’t know who she was. Just another human.

The water turned on with a metallic squeal of the faucet, and crashed into the chrome basin of the sink. Oscar pushed other thoughts away. His focus fixed on the water as Noriko, still cradling him in one hand, moved him inexorably towards the relentless stream.

He held his breath and closed his eyes tight.

It was all he could do.

Floorboards (1/2)

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We return to the sad AU for Oscar for this prompt. Cradle almost stumped me, but then this came to mind.

( For the first parts of this AU, follow these links to It Just Takes One and A New Doll )


Oscar stumbled, but he barely hit the floor before he scrambled back up and kept running. Everything in him focused forward, across the long expanse of hardwood flooring. He ignored the rumbling in the floor and the gaping space overhead, unfamiliar surroundings all looming in his periphery. He didn’t know this house, but he didn’t need to in order to recognize an avenue of escape.

It was the only chance he had.

They’d taken his bag. Tossed it out with the trash, no matter how much he wished they wouldn’t. It was only shabby cloth to them. Worthless.

To Noriko and her obedient boyfriend, Oscar was the one of value. A high priced little doll that needed to be fixed up and made perfect. They didn’t care how much he wept.

The first chance at escape came when Noriko left him out on her work table to go and fix herself a snack. She was so assured that he was trapped up there that she’d set him down on the middle of the surface without even a word to him after holding him up to her eyes, turning him this way and that.

From what Oscar understood, he and other smaller folk like him were a hobby to the dark-haired woman. She cooed over him and told him how precious he was, but she never treated him like a person. He had to escape.

Climbing down a table leg without the aid of his safety pin and string was difficult and risky, but Oscar hadn’t had a choice. Desperation had kept him safe for the haphazard slide all the way down to the floor, and he’d hit the ground running. He had to get himself out of sight before she came back.

He was a few feet away from a rolling stand raised off the ground a few inches by squeaky wheels when her footsteps returned to the room. “Oh, shit!” Noriko’s girly voice boomed overhead. Oscar flinched and it spurred him onward. Something clattered and more tremors stomped through the floor.

Oscar dove under the stand just in time for one of Noriko’s socked feet to land nearby. He pushed himself back to his feet and scurried to the back of the rolling cabinet near the wall, only turning to look at her when he reached the baseboard.

A curtain of black hair came into view before finally part of her face blocked everything else beyond the heavy stand. One eye bore into him and Oscar shuddered. Noriko had a way of smiling, appearing as cheerful as ever, while ice stabbed out of her expression. This was one of those times.

“Awww, who’s a little stinker?” she cooed. “You’re getting yourself all dusty, little baby. Why don’t you come out and we can rinse you off? I won’t even put you in time out if you come out right now.”

Oscar winced. ‘Time out,’ as she called it in that saccharine voice of hers, was an old pill bottle with holes cut in the lid. Oscar had yet to earn any time locked up in the cramped container, but it had been made clear to him what could earn him a stay.

An escape attempt meant at least half a day trapped in that bottle. Oscar would have no hope of getting out if he was stuck in there.

Still, he didn’t move to come out. This was his only chance to get away.

While Noriko kept her eye on him, Oscar glanced around for a new escape route. He knew she could move the cabinet if she wanted to get to him. He needed a better place to hide, somewhere out of reach. If she got a hand on him, it was over.

Just when he thought he wouldn’t find a way out of this mess, he spotted it. A hole in the old floorboard from a knot in the wood. It was barely more than an inch wide, but Oscar could tell that it bore all the way through.

The floorboards. If he could escape to the internals of the house, Noriko would never catch sight of him again.

“Don’t!” her voice ordered even as he dashed for the hole in the floor. Oscar shuddered but ignored her warning.

He almost tripped over his own feet to reach it. Right as he crouched by the opening to peer in, Noriko’s face disappeared from the gap at the front of Oscar’s current shelter. He had no time. He scooted forwards and slipped into the knog feet first. The wood floor groaned as the cabinet shifted ominously on its wheels.

Oscar was a skinny little guy. He didn’t need to make effort to fit, while the huge furniture overhead moved. He dropped out of sight before the human woman could get the stand out of the way with a loud rumbling of its wheels on the wooden boards.

Noriko swore loudly overhead, and Oscar fell a distance almost twice his own height. The dark under the floor welcomed him like an old friend. Relief welled up in him until he hit the ground.

Pain flared through his ankle, weak after years of fighting to get enough food. Oscar landed in a heap and stifled a squeal of pain. The wooden ceiling several inches above him rumbled with Noriko’s resentful stomps.

Oscar reached a shaky hand to brush over his ankle and foot. It stung when he touched it, and there was already swelling around the most painful spots, but his cloth wraps kept it steady through the pain.

Just a sprain. He groaned and pushed himself up to his feet while in the distance Noriko called for her boyfriend.

He wasn’t out yet. He couldn’t stop running until he was far from those two.

The first hobbled steps nearly knocked him over again. Oscar grimaced and stayed upright through sheer determination.

Under the floorboards was a thick layer of dust, rained down from above over the years. Thick support beams ran in rows, creating walls on either side of Oscar. He glanced behind and found more supports. The nearest wall was barred from him.

He’d have to trek across the long passageway under the room where Noriko did her work. She and her boyfriend would be right overhead the whole way, unseen giants looking for him. Angry at him.

Fear and a pounding heart drove him on, despite the slow progress on his hurt ankle. Pain pulsed up his leg with every step, preventing a full run no matter how much he tried to hurry himself along. No gaps showed in the support boards on either side, and Oscar needed to find one soon.

The earthquakes were coming back.